


Found, One Phone

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Embarrassing Situations, F/M, Playtime 'verse, lost phone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:57:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: An interlude fic in the Playtime 'verse. Mary Margaret finds a lost phone in the diner and determines to return it to its owner. On trying to determine its owner, however, she finds rather more than she bargained for.Prompt: One of the Storybrooke residents finds Belle or Gold's phone, complete with sexy messages...





	Found, One Phone

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Ultimatefan. Enjoy!

Mary Margaret looks at the phone that is sitting innocently on the bench seat of the far corner booth in Granny’s diner. On the face of it, it is a completely innocuous thing. There is absolutely no reason why it should have aroused such curiosity in her. Someone has forgotten their phone in the diner. No big deal, she’s sure that it happens all the time. She puts the phone on the table next to the napkin dispenser and waits for David, trying not to keep looking at the sleek black object. Whoever owns the phone will no doubt realise that it’s lost sooner rather than later, and then they will inevitably retrace their steps until they find themselves in the diner and reunite with their phone.

Mary Margaret knows that snooping in someone else’s phone is the height of rudeness and an incredibly bad thing to do. On the other hand… The person might need to get their phone back sooner rather than later, and might not think to come into the diner for it. And if Mary Margaret can take a look at the phone to see who it belongs to, then she can contact the owner and all will be well in the world.

After she reaches out for the phone and then snatches her hand back three times, she takes the plunge and picks it up again, swiping it out of sleep mode with her thumb. The phone isn’t locked, nor does it show any sign of who it belongs to, and Mary Margaret sighs. She really shouldn’t be doing this, but as long as she keeps telling herself that it’s for a good cause, she feels that she could perhaps be justified.

Carefully, she opens up the address book, which proves unhelpful. Whoever owns this phone is evidently not the most technologically friendly of people and there are only a few numbers. The one at the top of the list is labelled simply ‘My Love’, and Mary Margaret wonders for a moment about calling it and letting whoever is on the other end know about the lost phone situation.

She opens up the number, looking at the recent messages received from it.

It is at that moment that Mary Margaret knows that she is paying the price for snooping and she should have left well alone. The message was received about an hour ago.

_Mr Gold, the inspector will be visiting your premises this morning to check for safety code violations. Hopefully everything will be… satisfactory_

A whole host of terrible scenarios start working through Mary Margaret’s mind, the first and foremost one being that she’s poking about in the phone of  _Mr Gold_  of all people, which is likely to get her killed at best. The second thing that crosses her mind is that for her sins she seems to have stumbled across evidence of Mr Gold having an affair. He’s happily married to Belle, née French, the librarian! Why the hell does he have the health and safety code inspector in his phone under the label ‘My Love’?

For a few minutes, Mary Margaret is gripped by panic and is incredibly impressed with herself when she manages to maintain a calm facade as Ruby brings her soda over. As soon as the waitress leaves, however, she returns to her spiralling train of thought, wondering what on earth she should do now, confronted with this can of worms she’s inadvertently opened. She should have left well alone, dammit! She should have just handed the phone in to Ruby and let these things take their course without her interference. But still, she’s involved now, and she determines to do a little bit of sleuthing in order to get to the bottom of it all. Maybe there’s been a terrible misunderstanding and she won’t have to go and talk to Belle about what her husband gets up to in the back room of his shop with anonymous code inspectors. She can just about see the pawn shop at the other end of the street from the diner, but from this angle she can’t see anything happening inside it. She can make out the Cadillac parked outside.

She takes a deep breath and flicks through to the next message down, which consists of one word.

_Playtime?_

Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow, baffled, and skips to the next message, received yesterday.

_Pick up some cream on your way home please? I’m making carbonara._

Mary Margaret blinks, and then another terrible thought occurs to her that sends her back out of the received messages and into the address book to double-check that there is no entry for ‘Belle’. Because this is Mr Gold’s phone and this number belongs to ‘My Love’ and it’s now quite obvious that what she’s just been reading is Mrs Gold scheduling sexy roleplay time with her husband.

She doesn’t think she’s ever going to get over that image. She had enough trouble when they came to her Halloween party last year and Leroy caught them making out in the buffet room. It’s not that she doesn’t know that they’re a married couple, but they’re both so… respectable. Which is why the sight of Gold in tight leather trousers was imprinted on the inside of her eyelids for three weeks afterwards. It was just so unlike him that she couldn’t believe she wasn’t imagining things. And they’re never very demonstrative in public.

Probably because they’re very kinky in private, Mary Margaret thinks to herself, unable to stop herself from glancing out of the window at the pawn shop again. Oh lord, they’re probably in there right now doing…

Mary Margaret quickly puts the phone back down on the table and tries to pretend that it’s not there and she’s never seen it. The best thing to do, obviously, would be to pretend that she never saw it at all and just leave it where she found it.

Her own phone buzzes, David telling her that he’s running late and he’ll see her in about ten minutes.

Ten minutes in which Mary Margaret knows that her eyes will be glued to that incriminating phone, her mind racing.

Mr and Mrs Gold have always been one of the more intriguing couples in Storybrooke. Although there’s quite an age gap between them, they seem far more in tune with each other than some of the other pairs she has seen come and go. They’re certainly far more suited to each other than Gold and his first wife were. They work in perfect harmony, and Gold’s son Neal gets on very well with his step-mother, from what Mary Margaret has seen of their interactions when he visits from Boston.

She glances out at the pawn shop again, and she wonders. Perhaps their adventurous sex life is the key to their strong relationship. She honestly can’t believe that she’s thinking about it like this, but she’ll admit under extreme pressure that sometimes, her and David’s life in the bedroom can seem a little… stagnant. There’s not a lot of adventure in there.

The thought of asking Belle for tips is mortifying and the thought of asking Mr Gold doesn’t even bear entertaining. Belle’s a good friend and a well-respected and liked figure in the community, and through her influence the beast of Storybrooke is becoming somewhat mellower, but one’s intimate life is really not something that can be discussed with outsiders. She and David barely discuss it between themselves.

Looking around furtively to see if anyone is watching her - not that she knows why she needs to be quite so surreptitious when all she is doing is looking at a phone - Mary Margaret picks up Gold’s phone again and flicks through the messages received from Belle. They range from the tame reminding him to pick up groceries, to the enigmatic suggestions for their mysterious ‘playtime’, to the downright filthy. Those were evidently sent whilst he was away in Boston, and Mary Margaret hastily back pedals before the picture messages can load fully - she makes out a pair of bare creamy thighs and really doesn’t need to see any more. The message tells her all she needs to know:  _Pussy misses you. Meow._

(In the back of her mind, what’s left of Mary Margaret’s innocence clings to the belief that she’s talking about an actual cat, but her worldly wisdom tells her not to take that chance.)

The little roleplay scenarios intrigue her though, everything from Amazon warrior queens to naughty housemaids. Perhaps introducing something different into their own sex life isn’t quite such a far-fetched concept after all.

“Mary Margaret?”

She looks up, hastily shoving the phone out of sight under the table as David approaches. He raises an eyebrow on seeing her incredibly pink face.

“Why are you blushing?”

“Erm, no reason. Just a rude joke Ruby was telling me.”

“Right.”

David doesn’t seem entirely convinced by this excuse, but he takes it in his stride nonetheless, and by the time they’ve finished their meal, Mary Margaret’s face has returned to a normal colour and the incident with Gold’s phone is all but forgotten. It’s only when they’re leaving the diner that she’s reminded of it, as Ruby runs after her.

“Hey, Mary Margaret. You left this in the diner.”

She’s holding out the phone, and Mary Margaret looks at it as if it’s going to burn her the moment she touches it.

“Erm, yes,” she says, taking it from Ruby and slipping it into her pocket. “Thanks.”

“Mary Margaret, are you ok?” Ruby asks plainly. “You’ve been acting strange the whole time you were in there.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Mary Margaret exclaims hastily. “I’m absolutely fine.”

“Ok…”

Ruby exchanges a look with David and retreats into the diner again.

“Mary, what’s going on?” David asks once they’re alone together, and Mary Margaret knows that she is a terrible liar and she’s going to have to come clean.

“That’s not my phone,” she admits.

“Ok, why didn’t you just tell Ruby that?”

“Because I didn’t want her to know that I’d been snooping through someone else’s phone. Someone had left it in the booth and I wanted to reunite it with its owner!” she said, trying to justify herself as best she could.

“Ok… That still doesn’t explain the furious blushing.”

“Well, that’s more to do with the phone’s owner,” Mary Margaret mutters. “I found out who it is.”

“And who is it? We can go and return it now.”

“No! We can’t!”

“Why not? You can’t just hang on to someone else’s phone indefinitely. That’s technically theft.”

“I know! I just… We can’t just hand it back!”

“Because…”

“Because it’s Gold’s phone!” Mary Margaret hisses. David stops in his tracks.

“Right. Ok. I mean, it’s bad that you were looking through it but you don’t need to tell him that.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because, I, erm…”

“Mary Margaret, you’re scaring me now.”

“Well, I may have figured out his identity from looking through his text messages.”

“Right… Go on?” Even David is looking less than thrilled at the idea of returning the phone now, his eyes constantly moving to the pawn shop as if Gold is about to burst out of it and beat them round the head with his cane for snooping in on his private correspondence.

“I, erm, well, there were a lot of messages from Belle.”

“She’s his wife, that’s natural. Oh.” Realisation dawns on David’s face. “Oh.  _Those_  kind of messages.”

“Yup.”

“Well. I’m sure it will all be all right. You could say that you saw him leave it in the diner or something. He need never know that you actually looked at it.”

Mary Margaret considers this option for a moment and thinks it will probably be the safest they have.

“Will you come with me for moral support?” she asks.

“Of course.”

They make their way down to the pawn shop hand in hand, and Mary Margaret clears her throat.

“You know, you’d really never think it to look at them but their texts are very eye-opening.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I mean, the grammar’s perfect for a start. But they’re incredibly imaginative.”

“I really don’t think I want to know.”

All the same, she can detect a little morbid curiosity in his voice, and she wonders if perhaps she could broach the subject of roleplay with him later.

They reach the pawn shop. The sign says closed and the door is locked, which is understandable if Mary Margaret’s suspicions of just what they’re getting up to in there are correct. All the same, the phone is burning a hole in her pocket and she wants to get rid of it as soon as possible.

“Mr Gold?” she calls. “The car’s here, so I’m assuming you’re here too.”

There’s nothing for a long time, but then Gold opens the door. He’s fully dressed, but so obviously rumpled and post-coital that for a long time the three of them just stand there looking at each other awkwardly. Things are made slightly worse when Mary Margaret catches a glimpse of Belle lounging on the couch in the back room, seeming to be naked from the waist down. And good lord, what the hell is that on the floor?

She snaps her gaze downwards and thrusts out the phone towards Gold.

“I saw you leave this in the diner earlier here you go thank you bye!”

She grabs David and practically sprints away from the shop, leaving Gold looking perplexed after them.

Well, that’s certainly not an experience she’s going to repeat in a hurry, however inspirational it might yet prove to be…


End file.
